Abreaction
by Lys
Summary: Because Tim feels too, even if he doesn’t show it, and Kon can always hear what he doesn’t say. (Slash, hurtcomfort, angst. Oh and did I say angst?)


**Abreaction**  
Lys Summers

Takes place directly after Identity Crisis.

ab·re·act·ion tr.v. **ab·re·act**, ab·re·act·ing, ab·re·act·ed, ab·re·acts - Purging of built up emotional tensions.

It was late in the night, and the only semblance of light in the room was the muted glow from the computer screen. _(Belonging in the darkness.) _He was slouched on the bed – not lying down, but not quite sitting either – all hunched in over himself and looking about half his normal size. _(And that's how he felt, having lost so much he's not as much** there** as he used to be.)_ The shadows surrounded him, crawling between his tensed form and the lax sprawl of his bedmate, leaving him alone regardless of the temptation of comfort lying barely a foot away. _(Because how long did they really have before he left, too?) _The darkness obscured his face, but there was almost a palatable air of vulnerability hanging around him; a sort of languishing hopelessness that he kept locked away until he was like this – alone. _(Like he really was, there was almost nothing left.) _

He wasn't thinking about anything. _(Not even thinking about nothing, that focused mental strain to keep your thoughts empty.) _Just allowing his mind to drift blankly, as if it never thought at all. _(Would be easier to be nothing at all.) _It had become a disturbingly easy thing to do these days, and despite his seemingly rock solid self-control _(Keeping up the illusions) _he felt himself slipping like this more and more. _(And maybe one day he'll just slip away altogether, leave all the hurt behind.) _

He was used to hiding, he was good at it. There were times when he felt so lost behind his facades that he didn't even really know who he was anymore. _(Does he exist at all, anymore? Does he have the right to?) _It was all mixed up inside and parts of him _(People he loves) _kept on getting ripped away until he felt _(Like there's nothing left) _raw and empty.

Life goes on. Intellectually he knew this, and everyday he lived it, but pretty words and promises never did anything to fill the void. _(He's just so **cold **sometimes.) _There are some things that could, _(Just reach out, he's there)_ but he wasn't willing to _(be a burden) _let it slip because _(He's been taught not to** need**) _he had a job to do and people to protect. But sometimes it was just too much when he knew _(There really **was** someone to pick up the pieces) _he was part of _(A relationship, and why could he just never admit that commitment?) _a team, and he just had to reach out and…

He had reached out before he could even catch himself, his pale hand _(Small, so small and weak compared to his) _landing heavily on the blanket-covered shoulder, lying so _(Still, oh god, so still and –) _peacefully in repose. _(In…) _

A choked-off sob escaped him before he had the chance to bite it back, the kind that left him _(Hunched over the stained ceramic bowl, images of blood and tears and death strong in his mind) _gasping for air around the lump in his throat. The _(body) _form lying beneath the covers beside him murmured sleepily, rousing and turning to blink tired blue eyes at his _(defeated) _curled-up bedmate.

"Tim?" The quiet _(gentle) _questioning called forth another _(pathetic) _cry from deep inside him as he began to shake.

_(You're with me.) _"Kon…"

"Tim, hey Tim, it's okay man," Kon hushed as he sat up so his hands _(warm, large and **real**) _could rub soothing circles on his back. "It's okay, I'm here."

_(For how long?) _"I know," he choked out, his voice too high and desperate for his liking, body shaking. It was _(So like him, comfort without question) _natural to slide his arms around Kon's neck and squeeze. "I'm just, I… I'm so… _Kon_." _(Touch me) _He _(never) _managed to say. _(Show me you're here.) _

And Kon _(Always, always hears what he doesn't say) _took the hint, pulling Tim even closer to his broad _(Strong, Kon's so strong and he can almost believe he won't be like the rest) _chest before he'd hardly had a chance to finish speaking. His breath rasped close to Tim's ear, rapid and hot, and his words were hoarse and _(Real, and truthful, and honest and** real**) _full of feeling.

"I won't let you go, Tim. I'm _here _."

And he _(loves) _admired Kon so much, because he always said _(what he feels)_ what's on his mind, and some how it's always just right. He's honest and upfront and _(Trustworthy, he can believe in him and he just wants to be safe) _real. So Tim surrendered to _(is desperate for) _the kisses and the solid, sure strokes of those hands, because Kon was real, and so maybe _(no maybe) _he could convince Tim that he's _(He **is**, Tim **is**) _real, too.

That _(this is) _they're both real.

**End**


End file.
